


Gentlemen

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Young Guns (1988)
Genre: Cowboys, Friendship, Hand Job, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Brewer had his reasons for becoming a Regulator. Reasons that he wasn't about to share with the Ranch's newest member, until he discovered that Doc had reasons of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentlemen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/gifts).



There was always something about Doc. A kind of quiet thoughtfulness to him that I wasn't used to, that endeared me to him immediately. He was only a year or so younger than me, but he seemed so much smaller, barely old enough to wear the hint of beard that stubbled his cheeks. He was near skin and bones when he first came back with John Tunstall, dirty and tattered with big blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair. I shouldn't have liked him as much as I did - both from a professional standpoint and a physical one. Things were simple when it was just me and Tunstall, and no one to worry about taking orders proper. But Doc fit in quietly as a regulator, watching and listening and talking little, and before long I had a little blonde shadow following me as we rode around Tunstall's land. He filled out nicely on three square meals a day and proved more than competent at the ranch, whether it be bringing back a stray steer or mending the fences, and though we didn't carry on long conversations, we fell into a comfortable companionship. Then one day we caught a man in the stable trying to make off with a horse. He pulled a gun on us, Doc proved himself more than competent with a rifle as well.

"Where did you learn to shoot like that?" I asked, watching as he lowered the still smoking rifle. He merely glanced to me, blue eyes a little sad, and said nothing.

We reported the situation to Tunstall, who gave a grim nod. The dead man was a vagrant, far as we could tell. Just a run of the mill horse thief, and though I didn't know it then, he was the beginning of a wave of violence, hatred and plots turned against our kind benefactor. At the time he was just one nameless, hungry man. We buried him on the corner of the land with a simple wooden cross, and Tunstall read from the bible, his smooth voice and accent making everything seem somehow holy and humble.

Much later that night, when we were both sprawled on our beds in the bunk house, I heard Doc's voice just as I was drifting off to sleep. "Dick?"

I roused myself enough to reply. "Yeah?"

For a long moment he said nothing, and I thought perhaps he'd changed his mind. "I used to be part of the Dirty Underwear gang," he said finally. "Out in Missouri. Had to learn to shoot to survive."

I turned towards him, but could only see a vague hint of his silhouette in the darkness. "Tunstall said you were in med school."

"I was. Got kicked out." He was silent for a moment. "Conduct unbecoming a gentleman. The gang let me in, figured I could help patch people up. I guess I should be glad I'm not there anymore, or I wouldn't be here."

There was a strange heaviness to his voice, and I wondered if this was the reason for the sadness that weighed him down and kept him near mute. "Why'd you leave?"

I heard a soft exhalation of breath, almost a laugh. "Conduct unbecoming a gentleman," he repeated, and sighed.

"Conduct that got you kicked out of a bloody gang?"

"Not so much kicked out. I ran off before they could lynch me."

"Lynch you? God Doc, what the hell did you do, sleep with the boss's sister?"

"Not his sister," he said quietly, and was silent for a long moment. Then he turned on his side, facing the wall, and effectively ended the conversation.

I watched him the darkness for a time, wondering a little at his words and their meaning. It was strange that he'd opened up to me, but I didn't come to any conclusions about what he'd said before sleep took me.

~~~

He was silent through breakfast the next day, and I continued thinking. I conversed a little with Tunstall when he prompted before he sensed my distraction and politely left me to my thoughts. It wasn't until Doc and I were saddling up the horses to go out that I finally spoke.

"Been out here with Tunstall for two years, you know. He picked me up on the way out here, in Boston." I gave a good yank on the saddle's cinch, knowing my horses' tendency to hold his breath when being saddled and not wanting it to come loose. "My dad was a farmer out here, taught me how to shoot to fend off Indians. Mother died of consumption when I was fourteen and my father got caught out by some angry Indians not too long after, so I went back to Boston to stay with my uncle."

Doc watched me over the top of his saddle through this, tearing his eyes away from me when he finished. He worked the bit into his horse's mouth, buckling the bridle and looping the reigns over the saddle horn. "Yeah? Why did you leave?"

"Uncle kicked me out," I replied, grabbing the horn and mounting up with ease, swinging my leg over the back and settling into the saddle. I looked over at him, ignoring the thrill of nervousness in the pit of my stomach, and held his gaze to make sure he caught the meaning of my words. "Conduct unbecoming a gentleman."

With that, I dug my heels into my horse's flanks and took off without waiting for a reply, leaving him to catch up to me.

We didn't speak until lunch, though it wasn't entirely unusual to go about our work in silence. We usually stayed out for lunch, when there was no repairs to be done, riding back and forth and keeping an eye out for people who would wish Tunstall ill. We stopped at a large flat boulder where we often took lunch, one up against the edge of the property that was too big to tow away, and I couldn't help but watch him as he settled down and set his hat aside, letting the wind ruffle his blonde hair. There was something beautiful and somehow comforting about it, like watching the wind through the grass on the prairie. I had always thought that revealing what I had told him would make things uncomfortable between us, but that was before the things Doc had revealed to me the night previous. He didn't act any differently now, apart from possibly being a bit more thoughtful.

I had the food tucked into my saddle bags, and set it out, splitting it up between the two of us - ripe apples and a half loaf bread with thick slices of ham left from last night's dinner. He'd finished and was eating the last bit of flesh off the apple core when he finally spoke. "Was he worth it?"

I had just tossed my apple core away into the grass and looked over to him. "What?"

"Whoever it was that got you kicked out."

I stared at him for a moment, and detected no malice. "No," I said frankly, and stood. "But you would be." I turned for my horse, only to find him at my side, fingers tight around my wrist to keep me from leaving.

"You seem to like to say things like that and then leave without letting anyone else say anything, Dick," he remarked, voice a little lower than usual, and between that and the dark look in his eyes I felt a shiver of arousal travel down my spine. "John would tell you that you were being rude."

"Some things don't need response," I replied, heart beating a little faster as he stepped closer.

"And some things are better with one," he murmured, and brought his free hand up to rest lightly, unassumingly on my bicep. I let my eyes close and moved closer to him, reaching blindly to cup the side of his face and letting my forehead rest against his.

"Shouldn't be doing this," I whispered harshly, and felt his hand slip up to cup the back of my neck.

"Why not? We don't have to be gentlemen out here. Don't have to pretend anymore."

"No," I admitted, and let my fingers tangle in his wheat blonde hair. "No, we don't."

I hadn't allowed myself to think about kissing him, about kissing anyone, and pressing my lips to his now brought a surge of emotion, relief and desire all mixed together. It was like a cool cup of water after working all day in the hot sun, like a feast after starving for weeks. He drew a sharp breath and pressed closer, fingers tangling in the back of my shirt, well shaped lips parting under mine with a soft moan. The invitation was irresistible, and I let my tongue swipe against those lips, kissing him deeper with a surge of hunger, tasting the sweetness of apple and the underlying bitterness of his cigarettes.

More than anything I wanted to pull him down with me onto the sun warmed surface of the rock we'd just had lunch on, pull aside his clothes and claim every inch of that pale skin with my mouth and hands. But there was work to be done, so I forced myself to pull back, trying to catch my breath. "Better saddle up," I replied, the words coming much huskier than intended. "We can talk more when the day is over."

Doc smiled, then, wide and warm and brilliantly beautiful. It struck me that it was the first time I'd seen him smile, really smile like this, and it hammered the last nail in the lid of my coffin; I'd fallen hard. I let my thumb brush against his bottom lip briefly, wishing very much that I trusted myself to kiss him again, then pulled away and headed to where we'd tethered the horses by the fence.

To my surprise, he was much more talkative for the rest of the afternoon, as if his silence had been a wall I'd broken down with my kisses. He talked about Missouri, and in return I told him about Boston - how big the buildings were there, how busy everything was. The bustle of construction in the industrial district and how the city had come together to rebuild after the great fire.

By the time we returned to the ranch house, we were tired but proud of a good day's work. It was difficult to keep patient during dinner, remembering the afternoon and how good it felt to have Doc's lips against mine. I listened to Doc and Tunstall talk about the news in the Weekly New Mexican, but finally John turned in for the night, and Doc and I were left to return to the bunkhouse on our own.

It was near the end of summer, and we generally slept in nothing but our unders. I wasn't surprised when Doc slipped into my bunk beside me, and I shifted over a little to make room for him even as I reached for him, drawing him down to me and catching his mouth with mine. His kisses were searing despite the weariness I knew he must feel, and I wasn't so tired as to not welcome the situation of his body pressed warm and willing against mine. Perhaps the wait from the afternoon stoked my own passion, made me more bold than I would have been otherwise, returning his hunger and need, hands stroking hungrily over his waist and sides. I gave in to my desires from earlier and tugged open the buttons of his undershirt to stroke his bare chest, kissing my way down his neck and sucking at the fair skin. His scent was intoxicating, musk and dust and warmth, and I breathed deep, nipping lightly at his throat just to hear him groan, to feel him arch closer to me.

"God, Dick..." it was a heady thing to hear Doc moan my name, voice a low rumble in his throat under my lips. I let my own voice answer as his hips pressed to mine, groaning at the feel of his erection pressed against my thigh, warm and hard through the thin cotton. I didn't dissuade him, hands smoothing down to cup and clench at his ass to pull him closer, loving the feel of strength under my hands.

He tugged a little impatiently at my undershirt, and I let him take it off. I pulled myself from indulging in his bare skin to help him, kicking off my shorts as well and tugging his down, letting the fabric drag against the sensitive, flushed skin of his erection. I wanted that too, wanted every part of him, and perhaps with a little luck this would be the first of many nights when he would warm my bed.

The tease of Doc's fingertips on my thighs was almost maddening, but they found their target soon enough, curling around the base of my erection and slowly stroking up the shaft. I bucked up into his fingers before I could stop myself, breath catching at the pleasure of his touch. "Been so long," I managed to gasp, and he caught my mouth again, kisses slow and deep to match the deliberate stroke of his hand.

"I know," he murmured, and continued to stroke me, his thumb circling the head of my cock almost teasingly, slicking through the proof of my arousal before his fingers resumed slow strokes up and down my shaft. I slipped down to return the touch, loving the feel of him hard and warm and thick in my hand, loving the way it made him shiver and rock against me.

The pleasure quickly grew too intense for kisses, for anything more than for us to arch together, almost sharing breath as we shared pleasure. Doc was near whimpering against my mouth as I stroked him, skin flushed and eyes clenched tight. It somehow made everything more intense, knowing I had this beautiful man next to me, moaning for me, working my body quickly toward climax as I was his.

"Dick - !" My name, groaned helplessly from his lips, pushed me over the edge. It broke open the hot knot of pleasure that surged inside me and drove me to climax, bucking up into his fingers as pleasure rushed hot and bright through every nerve. I felt him follow, crying out harshly against my mouth as he shuddered against me and came, slick heat flooding my fingers and adding a warm rush of pride to my own satisfaction.

He made no move to pull away from me, and I tightened my free arm around him, wanting him close. He relaxed without further urging, nestling his face against my chest and giving a soft, appreciative moan as we both caught our breath

"I like not being a gentleman," he murmured, and I chuckled, nuzzling his hair.

"We've never been gentlemen," I replied, indulging in a kiss to his temple. "We're Regulators."

~~fin~~

Super much thanks to Melissima for the beta! &lt;3


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